Point Break of the Speed Matrix

When I was little you dressed up in your Sunday finest for trans-Atlantic trips or other trips requiring great distance.  Your parents planned well in advance, saved money for months, and had lists of handwritten numbers and addresses for immediate contact once you got to the other side.  You only communicated with the people you met on the other side and the rest of your hometownies just had to wait to hear how wonderful  or bad it all was.

You're going to have to stow that. Thanks.

When I was 10 I spent a summer in Ireland and England.  It was my first time out of my time zone and away from my schoolmates for such a long time.  When I returned I didn’t know what the cool song on the radio was, it seemed like everyone grew 3 inches or got boobs and I had developed a taste for things outside of PB&J.  I was a foreigner for my friends.  And that was the exciting thing about travel.  It changed you.

Now. I am typing this “blog” post 34,000 feet in the air, I’ve just swiped my credit card in the console for another chardonnay (I hate flying/ I love drinking), as I listen to my iPod 90s mix whilst sitting in the comfiest dirtbag attire because no one picks people up from the airport anymore.

Also, this Virgin fuselage looks like a goddamn disco.

Tags: Travel